Frozen Together
by EsmeAmelia
Summary: Short story about Han's thoughts during his night on Hoth after rescuing Luke. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

"Frozen Together"

By EsmeAmelia

AN: This is going to be a two-part short story. Don't worry, all of you who are anticipating updates to "My Mother" - I'm definitely not abandoning that one, this is just a little something to do on the side.

Oh, and as you know, I don't own SW or any of its characters (not even Han, BWAAAAAAH!).

"Ben...Ben...Beeeennnnn..."

Luke's tormented cries woke Han out of an uncomfortable sleep. He opened his eyes to complete darkness, absolutely no difference from when his eyes were closed, which made his ears more aware of Luke crying out to the dead man and the rest of him more aware of the biting cold. Despite his snowsuit, the heavy sleeping bag in which he and Luke were nestled together, and the supposedly insulated tent, he was shivering from the icy air.

"Beeeennnnn...Beeeennnnnn..."

Han rolled over to face the source of the voice. He carefully reached out his gloved hand until it touched the figure next to him. "Kid?" he whispered. "Hey kid, you awake?"

"Beeeeennnnnn..." was all the figure said in response.

Han let his hand slip off of him. The poor kid - he hadn't regained consciousness since Han rescued him. If this could be called rescue. It was more like providing a place for the two of them to stay while they waited for _someone else_ to rescue them. Someone else, like who? The rebellion? Maybe. Han's comlink was turned on, but no sound was emitting from it. Of course not - everyone knew that the nighttime temperatures on Hoth dropped to a deadly level that could freeze people instantly; they wouldn't go out to certain death for the slight chance that they might find two of their members. Only a fool would go outside at night on this planet. A fool...like Han.

Han felt his stomach growl from hunger and realized with more than a little dismay that in his rush to go looking for Luke he had forgotten to pack food. _Great,_ he thought. _Just great. _Maybe the search party would find their two comrades starved to death...if the search party was coming at all.

"Hope you're not hungry, kid," Han said between grunts to the unconscious Luke. "Cause dinner's not comin' for a long time."

Han rolled onto his back and stared up at the seemingly-infinite blackness. What had he gotten himself into? Wasn't it only this afternoon when he was planning to leave this rebellion, pay off his debt, and get his life back? He sniffed loudly, realizing his nose was clogged up from the cold, which forced him to breathe through his dry mouth. _Fine,_ he thought, _let's add a fever to starvation and freezing._ Well, maybe there were some good things about a stuffed nose. For one thing, it meant he couldn't smell Luke, who probably reeked from lying in the taun-taun's innards.

The taun-taun! Maybe they could carve it apart for food...no, they couldn't. It was probably frozen solid and buried under the snow by now, and besides, carving it up would require leaving the tent into the deadly nighttime temperatures of Hoth. Han sighed as his stomach growled again. If they were to attempt to eat the taun-taun, they would have to wait until later, and deal with hunger for the entire night, possibly longer.

"_Han, old buddy, do you read me?"_

For some reason Luke's words of earlier that day came into his head - three of which were speaking in an especially loud voice: _"Han old buddy."_ Old buddy. It hadn't been the first time someone had called him "old buddy" - in fact, it was a rather common way to refer to each other around the sabacc table after downing a few drinks. But there was something different about the way Luke had said it - not drunk, not gambling, and added on after the standard procedure of addressing him by his code name: "Echo Three to Echo Seven." Those words alone would have been sufficient, but Luke had proceeded with not only Han's real name, but also the words "old buddy" - said in such a way that sounded like he actually _meant_ it.

Well of course he meant it. After all, they had been working together in this crazy Rebel Alliance for three years. But no...it wasn't only that. Han had been working with many people for three years now, some of whom still had names unknown to him, but...there was something different about Luke. Maybe it was the kid's optimism. He always insisted that things would turn out all right, no matter what was happening. His childish ways of believing in the future had a way of rubbing off on everyone else, making his insistence into a self-fulfilling prophecy. Foolish optimism...but strangely, it usually seemed to work.

"_Han old buddy, do you read me?"_

Why did a kid who bubbled with optimism think of Han as an old buddy? It wasn't like he shared Luke's attitude. In fact, by any logic, Luke should hate such a cynic as Han.

But then, maybe the kid did hate him when they first met. Oh yeah, he remembered their argument on the Death Star when Luke insisted that they try to rescue the princess, even though that was going against their plan and setting them up to be captured. And then there was that memorable conversation before the Battle of Yavin, when Han insisted that attacking the Death Star was crazy and determined to get himself as far away as possible to avoid being blown to pieces. Oh yeah, Luke sure had a reason to hate him after that.

But he didn't end up leaving. Something...guilt feelings, maybe?...had possessed him during his flight away from Yavin 4. Probably the same thing that had possessed him earlier today...

"_The temperature's dropping too rapidly."_

"_That's right - and my friend's out in it!"_

No...that wasn't mere guilt. Mere guilt wouldn't have motivated him to do something like this. Hell, he used to think that _nothing_ would make him so crazy as to spend a night in Hoth's deathly environment, not even a million credits. But...obviously _something_ had done so...without so much as a single credit attached to it.

A loud sneeze erupted out of his mouth, followed immediately by a struggle for air as his breaths alternated between sniffs through his nose and gasps from his mouth. His head rocked up and down, as if trying to find which position would allow it to breathe properly. Air...where was the air...

After what must have been the longest five seconds in history, he finally caught his breath. His mouth took in long, slow inhales as the rest of him shivered. His toes and earlobes felt like bits of ice attached to his skin. Ugh...why was it always the toes and the earlobes that froze the worst? Not that the rest of him felt much better. He tightly wrapped his arms around his body, which did nothing to alleviate the fact that he felt like a living ice cube. He rubbed his chin with his bundled hand and felt bumps under his glove - the bumps of frozen saliva, gripping his skin with tiny bites, as if insects had attached themselves to him to suck his blood.

"H-h-h...H-h-h...H-h-h-haaannn?" a faint voice said.

Han whipped his body around to face the invisible source of the voice. "Luke!" he exclaimed.

"H-Han?" Luke whispered between labored breaths. "I-i-i-is...is th-that you?"

"Yeah kid," Han said with more than a little relief. "You okay? I was afraid you weren't gonna wake up."

Luke coughed softly. "Wh-wh-where are we...?"

Han breathed. "We're frozen together, kid. We're out in the middle of nowhere with only this tiny tent to shield us from the deadly temperatures outside. The rest of the party might come to rescue us, but that probably won't be till morning."

Luke coughed again. "I-I...th-thought you were g-g-going back to the b-b-base..."

Han reached over to touch Luke's face. "I came back for ya, kid."

Luke's rough breath blew on Han's glove. "H-h-han..." he said in a dazed voice, "I'm...I'm cold..."

_Well that's obvious_, Han found himself thinking, then he immediately scolded himself for thinking like that. After all, Luke had been out in the cold for much longer than he had. Poor guy, he must be absolutely miserable - no wonder he didn't seem to be completely there.

"Fraid I can't offer you much in terms of warmth, kid," said Han, to which Luke responded with a series of more intense coughs, occasionally interrupted by shaking breaths.

Han wanted to close off his ears to the sound. Every cough and breath from Luke shouted out that Han couldn't do anything to help him, causing his stomach to lurch. Close it off...ignore it...but try as he might, he found that he couldn't. Three years ago, he might have been able to brush away someone else's suffering, but now he had lost the ability.

Almost unconsciously, the fingers on his left hand began digging at the edge of his right glove. What...what was he doing? Was he insane? Did he want his hands to turn into lumps of ice that would shatter into pieces? His brain vaguely tried to stop his hands from removing his gloves to no avail.

"Here Luke," he said gently after his hands were bare. "I can give you a bit of body heat. It won't last long, but it's all I got." He gripped Luke's face in his hands and pressed against his cheeks, transferring the little heat he had to someone who needed it more.

Luke's coughs slowly depleted in intensity and his breath gradually became more regular as Han's hands tingled more and more from the cold. His stomach was still tight from hunger...his nose was still clogged...his body was still frozen...and now his hands were becoming unbearably numb, but his focus was on Luke, and doing whatever he could to make him more comfortable. It was an interesting feeling, for his physical discomfort to be a background to his concern for someone else's discomfort. Almost like he could feel what Luke was experiencing, which was undoubtably worse than how he felt.

By now his hands had almost completely lost their sensation, but his thumbs could still feel the slight upward curve in Luke's lips.

"I-I...I feel better now..." Luke whispered.

Han found himself smiling back, though it hurt his cheeks to stretch his stiff muscles. "Feel well enough to tell me what happened?"

Luke breathed deeply. "Wampa...a Wampa attacked me...took me to its cave...I escaped...got lost...saw...saw Ben..."

_Saw Ben?_ Han trembled slightly. No...Ben Kenobi was dead - the cold and injuries must have caused Luke to hallucinate or have some strange dreams. Yes...that was it.

"_Where did you dig up that old fossil?"_

His insult of three years back decided to creep around in his brain, as if he didn't have enough to contemplate already. If only he had known that the man was going to die that very day...

"Well kid," he found himself saying, "so long as we're on the subject, I guess this is as good a time as any to apologize for those times I insulted him. I mean...I barely knew the guy, but I know he meant a lot to you..."

"I-I...I know y-you didn't mean those things you said..." Luke said, the smile under Han's thumbs not wavering. "Th-that was a long time ago...let it be. H-he...he would be happy to see...wh-what you've done now."

Han lay there for several moments, his only movement being his fingers gently pinching Luke's stiff cheeks to give them warmth, silently contemplating what he had said. He had never given Ben Kenobi much thought...but now that Luke had brought it up, the thought of him _approving_ of Han suddenly gave him a slight flutter of happiness. He had never understood the old man, and probably never would, but there was something about him...something that couldn't exactly be placed. What had driven Ben to choose Han...out of all the pilots in the cantina? Looking back at that day, he couldn't assign it to anything except pure chance...but pure chance for which he was grateful.

Grateful? He was grateful for being stranded in the middle of this icy wasteland? Yes...Luke's steady breaths and the texture of his smile told Han that yes...he _was _grateful for that day that had altered his life.

The sound of a long yawn emitting from Luke's mouth interrupted Han's musings and caused him to realize that his eyes had closed while he was warming Luke's face. Not that it made much difference, since he couldn't see either way, but he still opened them again, as if Luke could see his eyes in the dark.

"We should both go to sleep, kid," said Han. "We need to preserve our energy for the rescue party that's comin' tomorrow."

Luke yawned again. "G-good...good night...Han," he said, his voice fading away. His body inched closer to Han until his head was pressed against Han's chest.

Han momentarily jumped in surprise at Luke's sudden action of brotherly affection, as if he trusted Han to take care of him until the rescue came. "Uh...Luke?" he said.

Luke gave no answer, only labored but peaceful breaths in rhythmic time.

Half out of reflex and half out of conscious decision, Han wrapped his arms around Luke's sleeping body, willing himself to give as much warmth to the younger man as he could. Yes...it was almost like they were brothers...the strangest pair of brothers in the galaxy.

Han closed his eyes, letting sleep engulf him. As he drifted out of consciousness, his heart gave silent prayers to whoever or whatever might be listening that they would both survive the night...that the rescue party would find them soon.

AN: One more chapter will be coming, hopefully soon.


	2. Chapter 2

"Frozen Together"

By EsmeAmelia

AN: Thanks for reviwing! And in case anyone's wondering, Chapter 23 of "My Mother" is on the way.

Chapter 2

A scratchy, obscure voice dug into Han's ear, disturbing his sleep. His first half-conscious thought was to ignore it - at this hour in the morning it was probably nothing important, and if it was, Chewie could answer it.

But...was Chewie here? The next thing to come into Han's partly-asleep mind was cold...extreme cold...followed by the sensation that he was holding something in his arms...then a stomach growl...a clogged nose...followed by a vague attempt to make out what the voice was saying.

"Captain Solo, do you copy? This is Rogue Two."

With that, Han completely woke up. He sprung up to a sitting position and fumbled around in the dim light for his comlink.

"They're here, kid! Told ya they'd come!" he said to Luke, still asleep beside him. Finally his frozen hands gripped the equally-cold metal of the comlink.

"Commander Skywalker, do you copy?" said the voice in the comlink. "This is Rogue Two."

"Good morning!" Han shouted into the comlink, a grin developing on his face. "Nice of you to drop by!"

In haste, his stiff, unfeeling hands grabbed his gloves and struggled to get them back on, averting his eyes, not wanting see how his hands looked after being exposed to Hoth for the entire night, but still getting a few tiny glimpses of yellowish skin. "I'll be right back, kid," he said to Luke, trying not to think about his hands. He leaned forward and forced his sore limbs to crawl out of the tent.

Upon exiting, his eyes met the overpowering glare of light reflected from snow, making him squint. For a few moments he could only see whiteness behind the blurry curtain of his eyelashes, which increased the dizziness in his head. Then there was also the matter of his muscles feeling like he hadn't moved at all in weeks, which had caused them to waste away. He breathed several times in large huffs before attempting to push himself to his feet, which in turn caused his arms to ache like they had parasites biting him from the inside. His hands felt so fragile that he actually wondered if they were going to snap off.

Once he was on his feet, Hoth immediately wanted to pull him back down, sending his brain in circles and making his legs feel unstable. _Oh no you don't,_ Han thought grimly. It would take more than this to bring him down. Still...it might be nice if those ships would land. He gritted his teeth as he pulled his heavy arm up to wave at the ships.

Though he felt terrible physically, he couldn't help but smile as the gray shapes in the sky grew larger, bringing salvation to him and his friend in the tent.

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Han could hardly bear to watch as Luke's body hovered past him on the stretcher. His face had a yellow tint to it, interrupted by a few blotches of purple. Streaks of blood decorated his forehead and the area around his mouth. The only sign of life in his body was the slow rising and falling of his chest.

A vague feeling of pressure on his numb shoulder caused him to look up and discover Wedge standing next to him, his hand on his shoulder.

"Well Solo, that took a lot of guts," he said. "How're you feeling?"

"Apart from being starving, exhausted, and freezing, I'm perfectly fine," said Han.

Wedge slapped his shoulder. "Fortunately, I've got some food and blankets on the ship."

"That sounds fabulous," said Han, his eyes once more gazing at Luke as the stretcher floated further and further away from them.

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Han was barely aware of the ship's liftoff vibrations as he sat next to Luke. Wedge had tried to get him to sit somewhere more comfortable than the ship's tiny sick bay, but he hadn't wanted to leave Luke's side, stating that clearly with a, "Hey buddy, ya really think I'm gonna leave him after practically freezin' to death with him?"

Luke was now wrapped up in several layers of blankets, with only his head visible, which seemed to highlight the damage done to it. The scratches were a sickening shade of reddish-brown that made his face look like it had been ripped apart and badly stitched together, and the blue-black splotches seemed to be larger than they had been when he was on the stretcher.

It made Han's stomach lurch to look at Luke's face, but he supposed he should be grateful that he wasn't returning to the base with his face covered. Even underneath the layers of blankets, the steady movement of his chest was detectable.

Han himself was also wrapped in blankets, but the tingling and numbness of his body took away the pleasure of the more tolerable temperature. A tray of food rested in his lap, which he figured he should be wolfing into, considering his length of time spent without eating, but he found he could only manage a few nibbles, as if his empty stomach had built a barrier to protect itself. Besides, his numb hands were having difficulty picking up food, like they were detaching themselves from his arms. Of course, the fact that he still had his gloves on probably wasn't helping, but he still couldn't bring himself to look at his hands.

With great difficulty, he placed the tray on the floor, then went back to looking at Luke. He wondered if the kid would remember last night. _He'd better_, he thought. Sacrificing the circulation in his hands would be at least a bit worth it if Luke remembered it.

_If you had left, his face would be covered._

The statement his head just made twisted his stomach even more. If he had gone through with his plan to leave the rebellion, Luke wouldn't have made it. In fact, though Han loathed to admit it, if that irritating 3PO hadn't notified him of Luke's failure to return to the base...well, maybe someone else would have told him, but maybe the droid should get a bit of credit. Or maybe not...he'd decide on that later. Either way, it boggled his mind to think of what would have happened if he had left. If that Force thing existed, it might have done this on purpose to keep Han from abandoning the rebellion.

Though his nose still forced him to breathe through his mouth, he managed to smile a bit as he remembered the argument he'd had with Leia yesterday. _Well Your Worship, are you happy now?_ he thought. She'd have to at least consider speaking to him again after he performed this little act.

After a few minutes, he realized that his blinks were becoming more gradual and lasting longer. Luke's image was beginning to fade into blurs, but he did not try to resist. Now that the rescue party had arrived, they could both get a bit of decent rest. He gathered the blankets up around him, let his head drop over his shoulder, and fell fast asleep.

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When Han woke up, he felt himself in a bed, but he instantly realized that it wasn't his own bed - the sheets smelled far too clean.

_Smelled?_ He could smell again? To his delight, he found that air could now pass through his nostrils with only a small bit of resistance. He spent a moment or two simply enjoying the sensation of breathing through his nose.

Upon opening his eyes, he found himself staring up at the metal face of a medical droid, whose gray face seemed better designed as an assassin than a doctor.

"Captain Solo, how are you feeling?" the droid said in a low voice that seemed to have been selected by someone who wanted the most unemotional voice possible.

"I'd feel better if you weren't starin' at me," Han muttered.

"I'm sorry sir, but I have been given orders to monitor your recovery," the droid responded, putting absolutely equal stress on all of his syllables.

"Well," said Han, "what if I told you that your staring was delaying my recovery?"

"That notion doesn't make any sense, sir," said the droid. "And besides, your word would not be valid, since you have no medical training of any sorts."

Han gritted his teeth before speaking again. "Do ya happen to know where Commander Skywalker is?"

"Yes sir," said the droid, "He is currently in one of the bacta tanks."

Han pushed himself to sit up, finding that his bones were still sore, but they felt much more mobile than they had been during his last waking moment. He also found that he was wearing only his pants. "Where're my clothes?" he asked the droid.

"They have been cleaned and folded," said the droid.

Han rolled his eyes. "But _where_ are they?"

"Right on that chair, sir," said the droid.

"Thank you," Han said in an insincere voice as he started to climb out of bed.

"Sir, I'm afraid that you are not supposed to leave your bed until you have been given a through examination when conscious," said the droid.

"Like I give a damn," Han replied, thinking that he had finally discovered a droid who was more annoying than 3PO. He walked over to the chair as fast as he could manage, though he figured that this droid probably wasn't designed for swift movement.

"Sir, your bodily functions could still be unstable," said the droid. "You may collapse if you attempt to walk."

"Well if I faint on the way to see Luke, you're welcome to carry me back to bed," Han said with a large sneer as he pulled his clothes on.

"I am not designed to carry a human, sir," said the droid.

"Then you can just leave me on the floor," Han snapped as he hurried out the door while still fumbling to get his jacket on.

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Han did not faint on the way to the bacta tanks, but he did have to stop a few times to catch his breath. Despite the mild lightheadedness he was currently experiencing, he reached the conclusion that he was feeling considerably better than last night or this morning. The dizziness would wear off soon...hopefully.

The bacta room stirred up his head a bit more as it gave Han the sight of Luke's body bobbing limply in the tank like a dead fish, wearing nothing but a diaper-like white covering of his middle. And...in addition to Luke still not looking normal, the bacta room also gave Han the sight of a head of neatly braided hair topping a white suit.

Either Leia hadn't noticed Han entering or she was choosing to ignore him - Han strongly suspected the latter. He swallowed nervously. Even seeing her only from behind gripped his senses, as her presence had been doing to him for three years.

Even though he couldn't see her face, the fact that she was looking intensely at Luke gave him an automatic reaction of slight jealously. Of course, he couldn't really say that he'd blame her if she chose Luke after yesterday. Luke's heart and soul had been with this rebellion since the day he joined - he didn't join for the money and end up remaining with their cause almost accidentally like Han had. Probably the best hope Han had was to get on speaking terms with the princess again, and even that was doubtful.

He cleared his throat, which he immediately regretted, since it made his throat hurt and it didn't do anything to get the princess to acknowledge his presence. It seemed that only words would break this barrier.

"Hey, Your Highness," he said in as friendly a tone as he could.

"Hi," Leia said dryly, not looking back at him.

Han swallow again before talking. "How's Luke doin'?"

"He's expected to make a full recovery within a few days," said Leia in a warmer tone. With her back still turned to him, she added, "How are you doing?"

Han breathed a sigh of relief before answering. "Pretty good, considerin' what all I just had to endure." Then it occurred to him that he didn't know whether or not he had _just_ endured it. "Er...how long did I sleep?"

Leia seemed to give a slight laugh. "At least twelve hours, three of which were spent in one of those tanks."

"What?"

Leia swayed side to side as she talked, as if she enjoyed telling Han of what had happened without giving him the pleasure of seeing her face. "You had quite a bit of frostbite, especially in your hands."

Han felt his heart flutter at the thought that Leia probably saw him nearly naked as Luke was. Did she perhaps find that a more pleasurable sight? He was tempted to tease her about it, but figured that it could wait until after Luke was well again. He glanced down at his hands, which still looked pale, but that awful yellow tint was gone. Even better, he found that he was able to curl and extend his fingers without pain.

Leia finally turned back to face him, her brown eyes giving him that authoritative look. "You know Han," she said, "that was a really crazy thing to do."

"Yeah?" said Han. "It didn't seem so crazy when I considered the alternative."

The princess actually smiled at him, making his stomach flip again. "I know." Her hand slipped down to grip his hand. "And I think I speak for the entire Alliance when I say thank you." She lifted his hand up between them. "By the way, do you happen to have any idea why your hands were affected the worst?"

Han grinned at her with a relaxed laugh. "I took off my gloves durin' the night so I could better warm up Luke's face."

"_You_ did that?" Leia exclaimed. "What happened to the Han Solo who kept whining when we chose this planet for the rebel base?"

"Hey Princess, I would've thought you'd learn by now that Han Solo is full of surprises," Han chuckled.

Leia dropped his hand, as if she just now realized that she had been doing something that might have been interpreted as romantic. Han wanted to call it to her attention, but it wasn't easy to do so with Luke floating lifelessly in front of them. Therefore he followed what Leia was now doing and turned his attention to the young man in the tank, the man who was like his brother.

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Han smiled as widely as his cheeks would allow when Luke's stretcher hovered past him for the second time, this time carrying an awake Luke whose bruises had nearly faded away and whose skin was regaining its color.

"Hey kid," he said between relieved breaths as he walked alongside the stretcher.

Luke smiled up at him. "Hi Han." His voice was hoarse but happy. "Are your hands all right?"

_He remembers!_ Han showed his teeth between his lips as he raised his hand up to touch Luke's hand. "Yup. Now don't you run into anymore Wampas so they can stay that way."

Luke wrapped his fingers around Han's hand. "Han, thanks. Thanks for coming after me."

"What're friends for?" replied Han, thinking that the cliche phrase might help to quench their memories of last night. He hoped he would never _ever_ be that cold again.

"For going into snowstorms after?" Luke said jokingly.

"Yup," said Han. "But let's not make a habit of it."

"Agreed," said Luke as he let Han's hand slip out of his.

"Now get some rest, kid," Han said as the stretcher floated away from him. "The Alliance is gonna need you as soon as they can get you."

After Luke's stretcher turned a corner and vanished out of sight, Han stared for several moments. Three years ago, that kid was just a means to an end, somebody to pilot to Alderann for money. Now he was almost a brother. How odd things worked out sometimes. The price on his head still existed, his debt was still unpaid, but strangely enough, he wasn't worried about that right now. In contrast, he was happy...perhaps happier than he had been in a long time.

"Thanks kid," he said.

**THE END**


End file.
